


The One Where They're Up (Almost) All Night

by dwarrowdams



Series: Rogues Do It From Behind [17]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Late Night Conversations, Laughter, M/M, sue me, yes i named this after a Friends episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 11:37:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13234911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dwarrowdams/pseuds/dwarrowdams
Summary: Gilan and Zevran stay up far too late laughing at stories of Gilan's past antics.  Straight-up fluff with a little discussion of grief and healing from it.





	The One Where They're Up (Almost) All Night

**Author's Note:**

> Dear goodness, it's been a long time. Between school, work, and writing a book, I've not had much time for fic. I do hope to keep adding to this series as time and inspiration allow, though, so it's far from dead. Thanks so much to all of you who've read and left kudos even in my months of absence!

Zevran should have gone to sleep hours ago, but somehow he was up far later than was necessary, listening to Gilan tell the story of the first time he’d been with a man.

 

“The sex was great, but I literally kicked him out of bed and onto the floor the next morning when I heard my mother at the door,” Gilan said, grinning and shaking his head before his deep, warm laugh rang out through the tent.

 

Zevran chuckled softly as well—it was impossible not to after seeing Gilan laugh, his blue-green eyes crinkled at the corners and his entire upper body shaking with joy.  He’d expected their conversation to take a serious turn once Gilan mentioned his family, but had been pleasantly surprised when Gilan began sharing all sorts of amusing stories from his days in Highever.  Zevran couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed this much.  He wasn’t sure he ever had, in fact, but it was impossible to listen to Gilan’s enthusiastic and overly dramatic style of storytelling without smiling a bit.

 

“So the first time you woke up next to a man after having sex with him, your mother nearly walked in on you?” he asked at the end of Gilan’s story, barely restraining several desperate gasps of laughter.

 

Gilan nodded.  “I felt a little bad for kicking him onto the floor, but not as bad as I would’ve felt having to explain to my mother why I was in bed with a man on the morning of my brother’s wedding.”

 

Zevran grinned.  “I would imagine so,” he said.  “Did anyone else find out?”

 

“Thankfully, no,” Gilan said.  “Something similar happened just after my nephew was born.  Obviously my brother was all excited about being a father, so he walked into my room without thinking to knock in the middle of the night.”

 

“Oh dear,” Zevran said, covering his face in embarrassment.  “I have a feeling that you weren’t alone in bed either.”

 

“I was alone, actually” Gilan said, a blush spreading gradually up his cheeks.  “But I was fucking myself with a particularly large toy when Fergus came in without knocking, so it was probably just as bad.”

 

Zevran gasped desperately for a few moments before dissolving into laughter, his face falling forward into his lap.  “I am so sorry,” he gasped, “but the idea of your brother seeing you like that is—”

 

“I know,” Gilan said, barely biting back a chuckle.  “Don’t be sorry—the humiliation’s long past and we might as well appreciate how amusing it was.”

 

The two of them sat in the tent, making half-hearted efforts to muffle their laughter...and failing dismally.

 

“I always imagined that living in a castle would give you a bit more privacy,” Zevran said once his laughter had subsided enough to allow him to speak.

 

“Yeah—so do most people,” Gilan replied.  “It’s big spatially, but almost everyone who lives there has known everyone else for literal years, so nothing juicy stays hidden for too long.  I grew up in it, though, so it was kind of just how things were.”

 

“It still makes for good stories,” Zev said.  “And I assume that some of the more intimate secrets didn’t spread quite so far.”

 

“Thankfully no—most of those were kept pretty quiet,” Gilan said.  “Tamer stuff, though...everyone found out about it.  I got into all sorts of trouble with my nephew—nothing serious, of course, but there were a few times his parents decided that maybe he shouldn’t be alone with Uncle Gil for a while.”

 

Zevran’s eyebrows arched.  “Any stories you want to share?”

 

“Let’s see,” Gilan said as he chewed his lip in thought.  “Oh—there was the time I let him play with flour and water in the kitchen.  I made the mistake of leaving him alone for a few minutes and by the time I got back, the whole place was covered in white paste—and I literally mean all of it, floor to ceiling and every last inch in between.”  He paused for a minute to compose himself before continuing.  “I helped clean up, obviously, but everyone who worked in the kitchen gave me the dirtiest looks for days afterwards.”

 

“I can’t say I blame them,” Zevran said before laughing softly.  “At least you were decent enough to help, though.”

 

Gilan pulled a face.  “I would’ve been happier about it if I didn’t spend the next week constantly finding that Maker-damned paste on every part of my body.”

 

“Every part of your body?” Zevran asked, his eyebrows waggling suggestively.

 

“Yep.  Every part,” Gilan managed before he erupted into laughter.

 

“Oh dear,” Zevran murmured, barely able to get the words out as laughter overtook him as well.  He tried to stop himself after a while, but to no avail.  It was no matter, though: Gilan was laughing far harder than he was and showed no sign of slowing down.

 

“Oh Maker, I’m crying,” Gilan said once he’d regained some of his composure, wiping a few tears of joy from his eyes.  “I haven’t laughed like this in ages.”

 

“Neither have I,” Zevran replied.  “It feels good to just enjoy something like this for a little while without being interrupted.”

 

Gilan nodded in response, his shoulders still shaking with barely-faded laughter.  “Glad you don’t mind listening to me talk.”

 

“Not at all,” Zevran replied.  “I am glad to hear it.  Although I rather expected you to be sad once you brought up your parents.”

 

“I was sad for a long time,” Gilan said, looking down as he fidgeted with a loose piece of string on his trousers.  “Maker, I could barely get out of bed for weeks after I left.  After a while, Duncan started taking my daggers at night because he was worried I would hurt myself.”  Gilan laughed bitterly.  “He wasn’t wrong.  Eventually I met Tirzah and Alistair and we became busy enough that I didn’t have as much time to think about all that.  Still, when I remember everyone, I want to think of the good moments too because that’s more a part of them than their deaths were.”

 

“Good,” Zevran replied as he reached out to brush Gilan’s hair back from his face.  “It is good to hear you laugh.”

 

“Thanks,” Gilan said.  “I’ve probably kept the whole camp up with it, but even if everyone yells at me tomorrow, it’s more than worth it.”

 

“It definitely is,” Zevran said as he slid closer to Gilan.  “Everything these days is so grim, but I am glad that we can steal some moments like this.”

 

“Me too,” Gilan murmured, wrapping an arm around Zevran’s waist.  “Some people think that going through something tragic means being sad all the time, but if that were the case, I would’ve lost my meager will to live months ago.”

 

Zevran nodded.  “I feel the same,” he admitted.  “It’s too hard to spend all of our time being sad about what we’ve lost.  Then we would not have any time to live our own lives.”

 

“Exactly,” Gilan said.  “I’m glad you get it, though.  I’m tired of everyone I’ve seen in the past few months who knew my parents act like I should be spending every spare moment sobbing until my eyes are sore.  I need to move on and honor their memories in my own way.”

 

“You are already dealing with more than enough without people telling you how to mourn,” Zevran replied before pressing a kiss to Gilan’s neck.

 

“Mmmh,” Gilan hummed as he pulled Zevran into his lap.  “We should probably go to bed soon—you know, to maintain the illusion of responsibility or something like that.”

 

“I’m not sure,” Zevran replied, a smirk spreading across his face.  “I think we have enough time to be irresponsible for a bit longer.”

 

Gilan smiled as he eased onto his back with Zevran still on top of him.  “I like the sound of that,” he said as he wrapped his arms around Zevran’s waist, drawing him closer until they’d both forgotten about everything but one another.


End file.
